“And indeed Mark Fuhrman was like Voltaire’s God: If he hadn’t existed, Johnnie Cochran would have had to create him.”
David Horowitz, October 1997

I hear it alot. Whenever a black person in the spotlight mentions discrimination of any kind somebody (usually someone white) declares shenanigans on the basis of the race card. I always think that’s bullshit. Perhaps there has been a person of color in a situation that used the negative treatment of their race to validate some failing on their part. The thing is the race card is more valid than most people want to admit. However, the race card is a double edged sword and those who wield it are cut by it more often than they can use it on another. I carry the race card like it’s my drivers license the difference is providing my I.D. can keep me from getting locked up. The race card can be the reason I’m getting locked up. The more accurate description would be the race card is a credit card and every month we have to pay at least the minimum balance on it. The race card is thrown in my face more than I can whip it out…as a matter of fact I can’t recall every getting to play it. On a daily basis though, it comes up. When I walk past University of Maryland (the hospital and the school) it comes up. I watch every day as people try to exert the subtle energy it takes to move out of my way. I notice when people stop walking and pretend to let something attract their attention long enough for me to move from behind them. They always lose interest in whatever it was once I’ve passed by. I notice (it’s hard not to) when people stare at me from a block away and then don’t speak when I say hello. I notice when people tense up, but don’t move away from me as they walk by. I notice when cops and security guards try to take a different tone with me. I notice when the salesperson keeps an eye on me in the store. In fact for me alot of these things are amplified. I mean who the hell is afraid of a guy wearing a sport coat drinking a mocha latte? Plenty of folks. My tastes that are outside of the mainstream just put me in places where there aren’t alot of black people. More often than not when I walk in peoples antenna goes up. Sometimes I start conversations with clerks so they can chill out and realize I have an interest in what they’re selling and don’t plan to rob them. One of the saddest things about the experiences I’ve just related is that the people in question aren’t always white. Alot of the time it’s the elders whom I’ve been taught to respect that show the most fear. It’s getting to the point that when an elder speaks to me in a friendly manner I want to stop and have a conversation. However, the race card remains…I get to see all types of wonderful garbage like this…

The race card has never been a free ride. It’s very essence is strife. As a matter of fact it’s even becoming a matter of contention with the sistas. “The problem with black men is…” I was still trying to get past to problem with men in general. I wasn’t really ready to deal with a slew of issues directed right at me. I’ve thought about this recently cause I visited some forums for a tech/gaming network and it seems like everyday some thread pops up saying something about black people. I’d realized: 1) that football season will be over by the time I get around to buying Madden ‘07. 2) there isn’t much real political debate there anymore. 3) people my age and older are a rarity these days. Given these factor I was considering not checking in anymore. I just keep noticing all of these weak ass threads and then I watched as the few black kids on there would try to stick up for…us. So I now I keep checking in to lend some intelligent counter-weight to such situations. The sad thing may be that the most effective tool I have is a simple insult. For instance there was a thread about “black people” talk and I ruined everyones fun by joking about the Bostonian accent. Or after that when someone put up a video of a drive by with a heading “Look how far black people have come in their struggle for equal rights”. I once again pissed them all off by displaying a picture of some mullet rocking redneck. So I have a race card…but I can’t seem to get it out faster than it’s thrown in my face.

“The eternal silence of these infinite spaces fills me with dread.”
Blaise Pascal (1623 - 1662)

Yes I lied. I said I had left my Anhedonia behind. Well if I did it caught back up with me. I need something new. I was out of the office for three days last week and upon my return it felt like the joy was slowly being sucked out of me. I need to mix it up. Gotta get something new going in rotation. I’ve had several thoughts over the last few days…thoughts I intend to express in upcoming posts. I do know I this I’d prefer to have a job that showed more results. I was at a training run by a cat that I’ve met and trained under before. He seems like he wants to get me to work for him and I can dig it. See, my skills translate into my job…it’s just that my job has a whole bunch of crap that doesn’t translate well into me. I know for a fact it’s like this with many jobs. You find a passion and someone else bogs it down with so much paperwork and procedure that eventually it seems like you’re not even doing what you love anymore. I wish I could go back to working with the afterschool program…then again they let me go over some financial nonsense…paperwork I didn’t get to see. They say we borrow the world from our children, I swear it wasn’t like this when I gave it away.